


Adrift

by 5t3r30typ1c4l



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Kissing, M/M, Monsters, Sharing Body Heat, Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5t3r30typ1c4l/pseuds/5t3r30typ1c4l
Summary: Nikolai Laskin is a vampire. A very hungry vampire. Salem decides to intrude on his personal space.
Relationships: Nikolai Laskin/Salem Snow
Kudos: 16





	Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> His name was Nikolai before I read the Grishaverse books.
> 
> Sue me.

**Nikolai had explained over and over that under no circumstances was** **_anyone_ ** **allowed in his cabin during the eclipse.** So why was someone knocking on his door? He heard it once from where he lay in the dark. His thick, velvet curtains drawn against the midday sun. He glanced up and sniffed the air. Immediately his stomach lurched, the salty wind carried the smell of blood. His mouth began to water and a low growl rumbled in his chest. 

He chastized himself, he was better than his hunger. Nikolai sighed and slung his legs off his bed. Running his fingers through his matted, sweaty hair he sneered. How long had it been since he had broken a sweat? It had to have been at least a year, he thought back to those first, fuzzy days in Polakec. Yes, he decided, it had been over a year ago. Nodding to himself he padded closer to the door. The smell grew stronger, and with it, his cravings. Saints he was  _ hungry,  _ he hadn’t eaten in days! Well, he didn’t count the disgusting sea creatures he fed on as a meal. If anything the meager blood supply had only fueled his lust.

Again he heard that infuriating knock. Shouldn’t the guard outside his door be dealing with this? Nikolai rubbed his temples in frustration, he’d have to talk to that one. It wouldn’t take long to send the person away, he knew that, but his stomach turned nonetheless. Even the thought of opening that door sent waves of revulsion through him. He’d long come to terms with what he was and what he needed to survive. It wasn’t the fact that he  _ needed  _ the blood that disgusted him, it was the insatiable  _ want.  _

The way his mouth watered and his throat clenched when he thought about it. The promise of warmth sliding past his lips. The glorious sound flesh made when he sank his teeth in deep. The panicked pounding of his victim’s hearts inside their chests. Nikolai scoffed in the dark, pacing back and forth, debating what he should do. He was strong enough to resist the pull normally, but this was not normal. Luccio had made sure he understood that.

Each eclipse a vampire’s body would try to reproduce. Ramping up their hunger to incredible levels. In turn the creature would feed more and there would be a higher chance of new vampires being created. Nikolai had decided, for the safety of his crew, that he would remain in isolation for the next few nights.

The hunger itself was slow to build. At first it was merely a passing thought, like one was considering what to have for lunch. Easily it was cast aside, then it turned into a constant nagging. Slowly he wasn’t able to focus on the books or maps he was studying. All he was doing was plotting ways to get blood. When he could steal a fish or two, or, perhaps, he could corner a deckhand. Someone no one cared about, someone who didn’t stick out in the crowd; someone forgettable, then he would--

Nikolai shook his head and sniffed the air again. He listened closely, angeling his body towards the door. 

“Nikolai, open up.” 

He froze, it was Salem. Of all the people! Why did it have to be him? Nikolai snarled,

“I’m sure you know why you’re not allowed in here.” 

“I don’t give two shits, open the damn door.”

“No. Now go away.” Nikolai crossed his arms. He knew he was shouting at the dark, at someone who wasn’t going to listen. But the more he could stall and get his breathing under control, the better. He could hear Salem’s heart beat, it was annoyingly stoic, just like him. The Swordsman tapped his foot impatiently. Nikolai heard the rustle of fabric through the door. 

“Nikolai.”

“What?” Nikolai snapped, “what is so damn important?”

Salem sighed and said nothing, he just stood there. On the other side of the door, and waited, he knew Nikolai would crack eventually. The Captain swallowed hard, Salem was an idiot, an utter buffoon, to put himself in danger like this. What was he thinking? Did he truly believe that he could best Nikolai in a fight? Because he couldn’t, never in a million years. 

“Just,” Nikolai rasped, “give me a moment.”

He clenched his shaking fists, and, with a surge of intense irritation, flung the door open wide. The smell assaulted him, a thousand times more potent now that the source was right in front of him.

_ Feed.  _ The instinct howled in his mind and Nikolai blinked. Salem was glaring at him, an impatient look on his face. The Captain scowled, what right did he have to be impatient? His blue eyes like shards of ice that burrowed into Nikolai’s head. The brand burned into his forehead stood out on his pale face. A sword, that pulsed an angry red, the blade taking up his nose and the hilt just above his brow. Salem had thick, brown hair that curled on the ends. It had gotten longer since he refused to cut it, about halfway down his neck.

“What?” Nikolai growled, holding his breath. Salem hummed and walked briskly past him. Into the dark cabin, the Captain rolled his jaw and turned to glare at the Swordsman. Salem glanced around once before his eyes settled on the map that took up most of the left wall. The brand seemed to glow in the dim light. “Salem, if you don’t need anything you’re going to have to leave. Now is  _ really  _ not a good time.”

Salem nodded, his fingers running over the worn spines of Nikolai’s books. After what felt like an hour he turned, leaned on Nikolai’s desk, and folded his arms across his chest.

“Shut the door.”

Nikolai quirked a brow in question but let the door fall closed behind him. 

“Lock it.”

“You--”

“Lock. It.” Nikolai sneered at the harsh tone and locked the door begrudgingly. The air was balmy and humid on his bare torso. His baggy pants hung low on his hips, the pistol tucked into his waistband was warm with his body heat. He stayed as far from the Swordsman as the cabin allowed. His muscles tense in anticipation, he would sooner jump into the northern sea before he hurt Salem. Slowly, Salem wandered farther from him, it didn’t help, his smell still filled the room. It was suffocating, his scent was so uniquely divine! Like the finest liquor, untouched and untainted. Nikolai took shallow breaths, ignoring the way his belly tightened. 

Salem was either blissfully unaware or acting ignorant to Nikolai’s hungry gaze. He calmly picked up the discarded letter on the Captain’s bed. Skimming over the rough paper before putting it down. He touched and fiddled with anything in sight, and it was getting on Nikolai’s nerves. He dug his fingernails into the meat of his palms, but his lips hard enough to make it bleed, before he snapped.

“What do you--”

“Are you hungry?” Salem deadpanned and Nikolai gawked at him. The Swordsman turned, his eyes boring into Nikolai, and asked him again. “Are you hungry, how long has it been since you ate?”

Nikolai gulped, “this is dangerous.”

“I know.” Salem shrugged, sitting himself down on Nikolai’s bed. Letting his Lokran robes slip down his body. 

“What are you doing?” Nikolai hissed, “I’m-I’m  _ starving.”  _

“I figured,” Salem brushed his hair away from his neck. Looking at the curtains. He laid there, completely still, save for his deep breaths.

“Why are you here?” Nikolai growled, “what do you want?”

Salem sighed, glanced at him, and shrugged again. “I don’t know. But I do know that if you don’t eat soon you’ll make rash decisions.”

“So why offer yourself to me? I’m a monster, aren’t you afraid?” Nikolai took a halting step forward. He was denying the hunger with all his strength. He’d promised himself, he’d swore he would never hurt Salem. But the Swordsman was tantalizingly beautiful. Spread out on his bed sheets. Like a painting, his bare skin exposed, his guard down, Nikolai wanted to. He wanted to eat so bad. 

He couldn’t. “I’m not going to feed on you.” Nikolai declared, his voice a hoarse whisper. Even as he said this, he was stumbling forward. His breathing deep and wet, an animal, spit dripped down his chin. He hunched over, grabbing the sheets on either side of Salem’s chest. He was shaking, muscles trembling with excitement. His lips peeled back on their own. Revealing two rows of gleaming, milky teeth, and four sharp canines. Salem breathed out a low sigh.

“Go on Nikolai. Eat.”

“Why are you doing this?” Nikolai demanded, clinging to the last shred of his dignity. “Tell me.”

Salem gave a rueful laugh, “because I want to.”

“You-he swallowed-amaze me.” Then he was burying his face in Salem’s neck. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his hip. The Swordsman laid his leg on Nikolai’s waist. Nikolai wrenched his head back, pulling on his hair, Salem gasped. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

He was gone. Nikolai Laskin ceased as soon as his teeth sank into Salem’s neck. He was a monster, simply put, and he craved human blood. A wet, masculine groan slipped past his lips. His mouth filling with warm blood. Salem shivered and moaned, his body going lax. The monster swallowed once and still it craved more. It swallowed twice but it was not enough.

It was never enough. The monster snarled, it would drain him, it  _ wanted  _ to destroy him. Biting down harder, fingers digging into the Swordsman’s hip. It growled, low and threatening, a warning to Salem. If he tried to escape now, the monster would kill him without thought. It wanted it's prey to stay put. The monster gulped down another mouthful of thick blood, and it eagerly awaited more.

_ “Nikolai,”  _ the Swordsman breathed out a low groan. Nikolai jolted, blinked, and ripped his mouth away. He was breathing heavy, panting and gasping for air. Tasting the iron on his tongue, he panicked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. 

They came away smeared with Salem’s blood. What had he done?  _ What had he done?  _ He stared in horror at the scene before him. Salem was shaking, his shoulder was marred with the imprint of Nikolai’s teeth. Blood gushed from the wounds in time with his heartbeat. Staining the white sheets beneath him. Nikolai ran a hand through his hair.

“You  _ idiot!”  _ He hissed, “what were you  _ thinking?” _

Salem, oh Saints Salem, looked at him slowly. His eyes heavy and clouded with-with something! His face was flushed pink and his hair was plastered to his forehead. His robes were a mess, pushed down his body, exposing his chest. He gasped, licked his lips, and moaned, “Nikolai…”

Nikolai leaned down and quickly licked his wound. The spit would dry and create a temporary seal. It took all his strength to keep himself from latching on again. From ripping the sheets to shreds and jamming the blood soaked silk into his mouth. He pulled back and stared at Salem. Their faces so close together that he could feel the Swordsman’s shaking breath.

He realized then the position they were in. He was hovering over Salem, elbows supporting his weight, and straddling one of his legs. The Swordman had his knee resting on Nikolai’s hip. His hands were by his head, like an invisible grip held him captive. Nikolai growled,

“Is this what you wanted?”

Salem studied his face and shakily nodded. Nikolai shook his head and laughed at the absurdity.

“You couldn’t have waited?”

“No.”

“You idiot. I could have  _ killed  _ you.”

“I know.” Salem hummed in amusement. Tilting his face so his mouth was closer to Nikolai’s. “That makes it better. When you get all riled up like this.”

Nikolai huffed, growled, and kissed him.


End file.
